


And Still They Return

by oudeteron



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, escapist sex, one thing I thought I'd never write but leave it to GoT, or as escapist as it gets for them, sibling incest warning applies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4449830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oudeteron/pseuds/oudeteron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They choose each other, even at times when others would be uncertain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Still They Return

**Author's Note:**

> I want to blame this on a prompt by [cherrytruck](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrytruck), but to be honest I didn't need to be enabled much to give these two a semi-happy scene without someone walking in to ruin it for them. Full disclosure: I'm not _that_ in the loop about GoT, so apologies if this is missing any chronology or context. I'm just interested in Cersei and Jaime and how they manage to have a sort-of-decent relationship by this series' standards despite, you know. (Barring that one scene everyone rightly hates.) Anyway! Fic is coming.

“I don't love him. I don't respect him. I don't as much as _like_ him,” are the first words Cersei greets him with, skipping any introduction or pleasantry, the derision in her voice almost palpable. Not that Jaime needs context to understand who his sister – his queen, _the_ Queen, he corrects himself – is referring to. Here they are, together again in an enclosed room, an opportunity they would have jumped on before, except now he has no idea whatsoever as to where he stands.

“You seemed fine enough with him earlier,” he offers but still hopes, despite himself.

“That was then. This is now,” Cersei says in her usual brusque way, never one to be argued with.

Jaime responds the only way he knows how. “Then what is it you want me to do?”

Cersei regards him for a moment and some of that old spark seems rekindled in the meeting of their eyes. “For now? Nothing.” She moves closer, apparently hesitant – a most unusual feature to see on her at the worst of days, let alone when she's angry. But she also doesn't let it stop her, advancing on Jaime until he is aware of the ornate wall behind them and of the fact that the door is securely closed.

“One thing, perhaps,” she whispers when there is a hair's breadth between their bodies, and oh, he can't deny her. Not when she grabs him around the waist and leans in close, kissing him with enough persuasion to melt all the layers of resolve Jaime has never had.

Their restraint falls away before their clothes do, and by the time the kiss breaks they are both panting, feeling, for the moment, like nothing has changed. Together again, two halves of a whole, the only real closeness they have ever known.

It's Cersei who starts undressing him first, disposing of his armour piece by piece with urgent dexterity until only soft cloth is left. She undoes that too but, clearly too impatient to deal with all of it, just exposes him where he needs it most.

“Bed,” she says curtly, pulling him with her like it's nothing.

“Let me –” Jaime tries to say, but before he has time to get a grasp of the situation, Cersei is kneeling in front of him in a way that makes hitching her elaborate dress up easy, and from there it is only a matter of pulling her undergarments aside and apart, freeing the need there to match his.

Already she is damp, and that suits Jaime just fine. He does make sure to slip her a finger regardless, then two as she pushes out towards him, the closest she'll ever get to begging. He works his fingers in and out, marvels at how inviting this feels still. When Cersei moans louder he withdraws them, bends down there to place a kiss on the exposed opening that runs wet with anticipation.

Cersei actually curses at that. _Good enough_ is what Jaime decides, entering her in a hard swift thrust.

Her body hugs him and they both cry out, and from there it's a solid rhythm with only slight interruptions when Jaime manages to concentrate long enough to unlace her dress at the back, slipping his hands underneath the now loose fabric as they fuck. While it is hot pleasuring Cersei from behind, going as fast or as slowly as they like, after such a long time he does wish he could see those soft breasts and so he uses his touch instead, feels them bounce as he rocks the beautiful body of his queen.

“Sentimental fool,” Cersei chuckles between ragged breaths and gasps.

“One and the same,” he replies as he pushes her further down and she obliges, bending lower until her rear is high above the bedding and her breasts are crushed against the sheets, against Jaime's hands.

He relocates them to her hips then, gripping hard to thrust faster, over and over to the hilt until Cersei is loud.

She clenches around him, throbs, pulses, everything indicating that she is close – he knows her body like his own, knows that this is finale. He's close too, so very close, but he slows down just to ask –

“You can,” comes the answer before he forms the words. “Ahh – ahhhhhh!”

The wet, hot passage gives a series of harsh spasms soon to finish him off; as he gives a few last frenetic thrusts and reaches around to stroke Cersei on the outside with his fingers, she buries her face in the pillow and _screams_ , the last stimulus to tear Jaime's orgasm from him and he spills inside the wonderful heat, biting his lip so hard it hurts to keep quiet. The pain barely registers against the pleasure, and he rides out his climax as Cersei does hers, still moaning at a quieter volume but so obviously satisfied that it makes him want to rewind time and do all this again just to end up back in these moments.

Eventually, they disentangle, only to lie back together face to face. Gazing at each other, they are almost perfect mirror images, as perfect as any two people can be without actually changing into each other.

And for tonight, they forget there is a world outside.


End file.
